The Cerulean (Untitled Duology, #1)(95)

They both stared down at their mother.

“You won’t tell him I have it, right?” she said.

“No. Never. He’d probably make you burn it.” He handed the photograph back to her. “Will you tell me what this tether is?”

She leaned against her pillows and yawned. “I’m not sure I entirely understand it. It’s part of her city, a city in space. The tether attaches the city to our planet, and she thinks if she can get to the tether, she can get back home.”

Leo took his time processing her words. In the end he decided that a city of only women that floated around in space was no crazier to believe than magical healing blood.

“I’ve got to help her, Leo,” Agnes said, her eyes fluttering closed. “She can’t . . . Father is stealing her . . . it’s all wrong. She shouldn’t be here and we did that, me and you together. I was there, I was responsible too. I should have let her go, could have, but I was scared and I don’t want to be scared anymore. And I don’t want to live in Old Port and I don’t want to marry Ebenezer Grange.” Her head sank deeper into her pillow. “He’s nice, though,” she added sleepily. “Very nice. Very helpful. But not for me. No, not for me.”

“I’m going to help her too,” Leo said. “I promised I would, and I’m going to keep that promise.” He smiled. “What do you know, we’re on the same team for the first time since . . . well, ever.”

But Agnes was already drifting off, her breathing slow and steady. He went to the bathroom and filled a glass with water, took two aspirin out of the medicine cabinet, and crept back to her room.

“Agnes,” he said, shaking her gently. “Sit up and take these.”

She took the aspirin obediently, then lay back again.

“You’re being very nice,” she murmured. “It’s suspicious.”

“Get used to it, little sister.”

She growled with all the ferocity of a kitten. “Three minutes, Leo. Three lousy minutes.”

“And I get to lord it over you until the end of our days.”

She let out a drowsy laugh. He put the glass down on her nightstand as his sister slipped into unconsciousness, then unpinned the silly hat from her bun and left it on her dresser. The photograph of their mother was still clutched in her hand, and he placed it next to the glass of water. Alethea Byrne looked so alive. Leo had always been irritated by Agnes’s curiosity about her, but now he was beginning to understand. There was a whole side to the two of them that they knew nothing about. Maybe if Leo had cared more about his mother, he wouldn’t have been so desperate to be like his father.

He turned off the light and went to his room, pulling on pajamas and getting into bed. That night he dreamed he was a little boy again, just learning to ride a bicycle, and a woman with red curls and a marvelous laugh was cheering him on. Then the dream shifted and he was grown, staring into a pair of brilliant blue eyes as a warm, silvery hand slipped into his own.

Leo woke with his mother on his mind.

There was something he was missing, some connection his brain couldn’t quite make. He thought back to the conversation he had overheard between Kiernan and his father, the night after that first dinner when everything changed.

You’re lucky I got you out of Pelago when I did. Ambrosine Byrne could snuff out this operation before you can say “mertag.”

It had sounded as if Kiernan had some relationship with Leo’s grandmother, and more surprisingly, that his father knew her too. Xavier had been worried about Ambrosine assembling ships to search for the ruins of Braxos like some feud existed between them, and that couldn’t possibly be. What would they have to feud over? Their only connection died eighteen years ago. And when Xavier mentioned never setting foot in Pelago again, as if he’d been there before—now that was something Leo was certain he would know, had it happened.

Of course, it was more than likely Xavier kept many things from his children. But there was something about Braxos . . . his father wanted it, his grandmother apparently too, and so did Sera. Leo sipped his coffee and stared out his bedroom window overlooking their back garden, considering his options. Agnes had booked passage on a ship to Pelago, which was impressive in and of itself. But she would need to get Sera out of the theater, and Leo knew she would not be allowed in until the night of the show.

But he could get in.

“Sir?” Janderson’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Sorry, what?”

“Your father wishes to see you, sir. In his study.”

Does he know? Leo thought, panicked, though about what he couldn’t decide.

But he didn’t let his fears show. “All right,” he said, putting his coffee down. “Thanks, Janderson.”

He left his room and headed downstairs. The study door was closed and Leo knocked, trying to slow his heart.

“Come,” his father said.

He was signing some papers and did not look up until he was finished. Leo took a seat in one of the uncomfortable hardback chairs and waited.

“Leo,” Xavier said finally, shuffling the papers and putting them in a drawer. “The event the other evening was a smashing success. That girl you brought me is a gold mine. Hubert Conway was practically begging to invest. And he’s going to build me a train unlike any that has ever been seen before, at a fraction of what it will cost, so long as I let him in on ten percent of the profits. I talked him down to seven percent, naturally, but his name adds an extra layer of credibility. These Pelagan creatures will be most difficult to transport. I am fortunate he already has several empty train cars that are perfect for the modifications I will need.”